


Rose-Colored Boy

by Innocentlynik



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gaming, Idols, Online Relationship, Secret Identity, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocentlynik/pseuds/Innocentlynik
Summary: What happens when you get to meet one of your online friends in real life? Will the friendship hold up when you realize that everything is not as simple in the game? When the computer screens aren’t in the way, hopefully your walls don’t come between you and something great.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first kpop fic so please be kind. I couldn’t get the urge out of my head to write, so here is chapter 1. I don’t know how many parts this is going to be, but enjoy!

“I swear to god, if you don’t get this asshole off my six I’m going to die and make sure I’m reincarnated as the worst ingrown nail on your big toe! Kill him!” Your voice carried so loud, you were sure that your neighbors assumed someone was really committing a murder. It wasn’t that you were normally a violent person, but the way that the game caused you to lose all sense of your surroundings and common sense, possession was the only semi-logical explanation for that kind of behavior. Your fingers started to ache from the intense banging on the keyboard and quick back and forth of the mouse beneath your palm, but you couldn’t stop. The rest of your team was in your ear, yelling out curses for help, and you were right there with them.

“Sinderella, reload! Reload!” FlyingRooster93 screamed in your ear, but it was too late. Just as you were taking his advice, a headshot took you out of the game.

“Fuck!” Your head fell to the desk and you wanted to beat something up or wallow, but a ding from the computer brought you back. It was a request for a private chat. Not really wanting to talk to anyone, you saw it was FlyingRooster93 and a small smile touched your lips before accepting.

 **FlyingRooster93** : Sorry for telling you too late L

 **Sinderella** : It’s okay. I should have gotten off hours ago. I start my new shift at work tomorrow.

 **FlyingRooster93** : That’s right! Washing the asses of old people or something.

 **Sinderella** : Not exactly, dumbass. I’m moving to the day shift and it happens to be on the elderly floor.

 **FlyingRooster93** : Does that mean you’re not going to washing some old dude’s balls?

 **Sinderella** : You just wish someone would wash your balls.

 **FlyingRooster93** : You’re right, I do. I’m exhausted, too much effort. And you still didn’t say no, so I’ll take that as a yes lol.

 **Sinderella** : Whatever! What are you still doing on anyway, didn’t you say you were going on some big trip or something in the morning.

 **FlyingRooster93** : Crap… you’re right. It’s been so long since I’ve been on, I lost track. Thanks, Sin.

 **Sinderella** : No worries. It will be another 83 long years before I see you again anyway.

 **FlyingRooster93** : Dramatic much? Want me to draw you like a French girl, so you could then leave me to die in some ocean?

 **Sinderella** : Maybe, but I need a sugar daddy to give me a big diamond first. Gotta pay for your funeral somehow.

 **FlyingRooster93** : Should have known you only cared about wallet size.

 **Sinderella:** Fuck yeah I do! Have to pay these student loans off somehow. But for real, will I see you sometime this decade or wait forever and a year again?

 **FlyingRooster93** : Or I could text you as you hit on the grandpas….

 **Sinderella** : …

 **FlyingRooster93** : What? Want to hit on the grandmas instead?

 **Sinderella** : In order for me to text, I would need your number or am I doing this telepathically?

 **FlyingRooster93** : If you did, that would fucking awesome for one, but yeah, I mean, we’ve been on the same squad for 2 years now and we talk all the time. This is what friends do, right?

 **Sinderella** : Friends…

 **FlyingRooster93** : Are we mortal enemies or something? Sin, it’s no big deal. Here, 116-201-4947. I gotta go pack. Text me, okay? Don’t be freaked.

 **Sinderella** : So bossy. Fine. You text me first. 868-112-2586.

_Sinderella signs out._

The last thing you expected was to exchange numbers with someone you’ve been gaming with for the last 2 years. You didn’t know each other’s names, just handles, but for some reason, this made you nervous and excited. You both knew certain aspects of each other’s lives. Like age and the base of your professions, but that was it. You knew he was a “he” because his voice was one of the only ones you could pick out while playing. You didn’t want to admit, but it was a really nice one and somehow eased your game rage. But texting? What did that mean? Was this going to lead to phone calls? Video chatting? You turned around and looked into your mirror to see your makeup-less face and messy bun. Shuddering at the thought, you left your desk and jumped into your bed. Just then, your phone flashed with an incoming text. Why was your heart about to punch through your chest cavity? Calm the fuck down, it was probably just spam. Holding the phone face down in your palm, you slowly turned it over.

 **116-201-4947** : Are you going to save me as FlyingRooster93 or should I give you my name as well?

Asshole. You laughed and your fingers flew across the screen.

 **Sin** : I mean, a name would be nice, but I could also save it as pushy bird.

 **Mark** : I am not pushy. But, it’s Mark. Should I keep calling you Sin?

 **Sin** : I mean you can. But, it’s y/n. Mark… I was expecting something more manly.

 **Mark** : It’s very manly. Anyway, go to bed, you have to catch a rich grandpa in a few hours. Night, y/n.

 **Sin** : And you have to… go away for a million years. Night, bossy Mark.

 **Mark** : ;-)

Tossing your phone to the side, a smile was on your lips as you laid back down. Your online friend was becoming less abstract and more real and it didn’t feel so bad. Even though you joked, you really hoped he didn’t ghost you like usual now that a window had opened between the two of you.

What you didn’t expect was for that window to stay wide open. Mark would text you almost every day. It wasn’t fully deep conversations. He would send you the occasional joke or something that crossed his mind. You would reply with a meme or snarky comeback. Your gif wars were insane, but made you laugh on days that were really rough either with work or at home.

There were things that were still a mystery. The fear of having voice or facetime was never tested because all you both did was text, but some truths were told. The 93 in his username was for his birth year. All the traveling he seemed to do was for work, even though he never said exactly what his job was. You found out that he had 3 siblings, but he was living away from his family due to work. He lived with his friends and he loved meat. Both of you talked about your favorite BBQ spots and some even overlapped. You found yourselves arguing when it came to which bubble tea places were the best. You even divulged some things about yourself. Like how you just moved out from home and living alone for the first time. How you really enjoyed becoming a nurse and hoped to move up in the hospital. Little facts were exchanged and you found the awkwardness melted away. It was nice to know more about a guy beyond how quick he was on the reload. Weeks turned into months, and before you knew it, two months had passed. However, when your phone rang one night, the shock at Mark’s name across the screen had you stuck.

“Hello?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper even though you were alone, but the surprise at the call itself had you on edge.

“Is that how you always answer the phone? As if you just did something wrong?” His laugh came in deep and hearty. You could tell he was smiling even if you didn’t know what that smile looked like.

“Well, when strange men call me after midnight, I’m not sure if I should answer.”

“Yeah, about that. Sorry. I just needed to talk and my hands were too heavy to type.”

“Likely excuse. Told you to stop rubbing it out so often, you’ll get weak bones and go blind.” Laying back against your pillows, comfort easing in as you listened to his laugh again.

“If I go blind, you have to take care of me before I get a dog.”

“Are you saying I’m dog-ish?! Wait, what’s that noise?” You heard some muffling voice through the speaker. It sounded like an announcement of some sort.

“I didn’t say anything. Anyway, I’m at the airport heading home. Finally, right? I start to board in about 40 mins and wanted to kill some time and…”

“And what? Bother my beauty sleep?”

“That was terrible of me; you need all the beauty sleep in the world.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m gorgeous even on minimal sleep.”

“Prove it. Want to meet up tomorrow?”

The phone slipped from your fingers as if it morphed into water. Meet. Up? Like face-to-face? Human-to-human? Was he serious?!

“Yes, I’m serious. y/n? Pick up the phone.” His laughter came through again. Shit, he knew that you dropped the phone and you must have spoken those last words aloud.

“Are you back, y/n? I’m coming home and I want to hang out with you and not through a screen. I know it’s shitty of me to spring this request on you this late, but you’ve really become one of my closest friends in just a matter of weeks and it’s just natural to want to meet, right? Or maybe I’m way off base and you don’t. Fuck, didn’t think about you…”

“Mark.” You said over his rambling,but he just kept on.

“I mean we text every day and I thought we could just watch something or go eat something…”

“MARK!” You yelled, and finally he shut up.

“Thank God. I didn’t think you would shut up. Do you want an answer to the question or would you like to continue with your monologue? I can get you a skull if you want to get deeper, hamlet.”

“Yes…”

“Yes you want a skull or you want an answer?”

“Answer damn it!”

“Yes. I’ll meet up with you.” You breathed out. You tried not to laugh at his eagerness, but the realization of what you just agreed to started to dawn.

“Okay… awesome.” He breathed out and you could tell the smile was back on his lips. Lips that you were about to be able to know what looked like. Shit.

“I promise I’m not some psycho killer, but would it be okay if we met up at my apartment? It’s just…”

“Sure. I’m off tomorrow so I can just, go there?” You interrupted. You didn’t want to sound so eager yourself, but you were trying to beat back the worries that started to build up in your chest like a bad case of indigestion. You wanted to meet him, he’s basically been your friend for two years, why would this be hard?

The sound of the announcements came through the speaker again. “Crap, that’s me. I have to board. I’ll text you my address and a time that works. See you tomorrow y/n.” Before you could even say bye, the line went dead. As you sat on your bed staring at the phone as if it would bite you, Mark’s text came through with his address and apartment number.

Holy shit! You were really going to meet FlyingRooster93 in person.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the response! Here is chapter 2. I don't really have a upload schedule but I'll try to not keep it too far in between updates. Thank you to my beta and pre-readers for helping me with this one!

It wasn’t hard to find Mark’s apartment building. Forty-five minute subway ride and a five minute walk was all it took to get from your place to his. What was hard was trying to stay calm the whole train ride into his part of town. Being so calm when saying “yes”,but freaking as you’re doing it was starting to drive you insane. As you stood in front of the fancy as fuck apartment building, questions started to flow through your head; What does he do for a living? Are his roommates going to be there? Is he hot? _Hot_?! That shouldn’t even matter. You weren’t on your way to a blind date. You were just meeting up with a friend. A friend that you have no idea what he looks like or if he is even an adult. Another wave of panic started to wash over you at the thought of Mark not being who he said. Your fingers started to shake as you punched in the apartment number he had given to you.

“Hello?” You knew it was his voice right away. It did nothing to calm your nerves, so when he repeated himself for a third time, you finally answered.

“Hi, it’s Y/N.” It sounded as if he let go a sigh of relief. Instead of replying, the door buzzed open and you went right in. Walking right to the elevator, you followed the directions and went to his floor. Once the elevator doors opened you couldn’t make yourself leave the box. Your finger hovered over the open doors button. Crazy, this was crazy. He wasn’t a full stranger, but you couldn’t tell your body to behave. You needed to snap out of it and slapping your cheeks and cursing yourself seemed to wake you up enough to exit.

“You got this. You’re cool, calm, and a badass.” That was the mantra you repeated to yourself as your hand lifted to the bell and next thing you knew, you heard the locks of the door start to turn. Were you breathing? Didn’t feel like it. Your eyes felt like they were seeing everything and nothing at the same time as a blond head poked out of the door.

“You’re here.” The now smiling face said to you. Was this Mark? Or was this one of his roommates? Either way, you nodded, and he opened the door further for you to enter the nicest apartment you’ve ever seen in your life. This was a vast difference from your studio.

Once the door closed you turned and noticed that he was looking nervous, his hands shoved into jean pockets and his hoodie almost swallowed him, but a small smile was tugging at the corners of his lips.

“So… hi,” he muttered. The distance between the two of you was still more than 5 feet and you weren’t in a rush to close it. Your stomach was in knots and it was something you wish would go away.

“Y/N, say something, please. I’m going crazy wondering what’s going on in that head of yours.” His tone slightly frustrated.

“Um, you didn’t mention that you were rich. Are you a silver spoon kid?” You questioned while looking around at the nice leather furniture and what you could only assume was expensive artwork on the walls.

The mention of money had him running a hand through his highlighted hair. On a closer inspection, you could tell the blond was tinged with a fading purple. Interesting color choice.

“I’m far from rich. Just, hardworking. Umm…” You could tell he was unsure of what to say or do next. Both of you were in the same boat and you hated it. This was the person that you spent countless hours gaming and texting, it shouldn’t be this awkward.

“Do you have water or something to drink?” Before the full sentence was out your mouth, Mark was breezing pass and heading towards what you assumed was the kitchen. He returned in a matter of seconds with a bottle, untwisting and handing it over with a shy smile.

Muttering a thanks, you concentrated harder than necessary on drinking. The distance was almost nonexistent now since Mark hadn’t taken a step back yet.

“I ended up getting that keyboard I showed you.” His comment was random and it took you a second to realize he had actually spoke. Keyboard? You sprinted through your memories to understand what the hell he was talking about.

Suddenly like the typical lightbulb going off, a text conversation between the two of you from last week came to mind and you groaned.

“I told you that was crappy! Why did you waste your money on it when there are better gaming keyboards on the market?”

“It glows to the imperial march. How could I not?” His smile was prominent and you wanted to just punch him to make it go away.

“That is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard and I deal with fanboys on a regular.”

Mark laughed and went to grab said keyboard. You stepped to follow, but you thought better of it. Feeling a little more comfortable, you took a seat on the large sectional couch and sipped at your water.

Questions started to arise again. What did he do for a living or was it that his roommates were well off? What were you guys gonna do today? When would this awkwardness go away, so you could hang with the guy you’ve gotten to know?

Mark came back and fell to the couch next to you and shoved his new toy into your lap.

“Now tell me this isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever held in your hands.”

“I can confidently say this is not the sexiest thing I’ve held and you’re insane.”

He pouted at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at the boyish look on his model ready face. Who knew this was the guy you cursed out on a daily basis for messing up in the game?

“Anyway, since you’ve hurt my feelings. I was wondering if you wanted to play with me. I got a beta version of the soon-to-be released Anarchy of the Dead 2. You down?” He seemed more nervous than when you first arrived, but the mention of gaming together, something you were used to, made your grin take over your face.

“Am I a better gamer than you? That’s a yes, by the way, but I didn’t bring my laptop with me.”

“That’s fine, I have a spare I’m sure you’ll find acceptable.” He ran off to what you could assume was his room and came back with two laptops under his arm. Mark set up in the living room and the both of you leaned against the couch side by side and started the marathon of playing.

You didn’t even realize four hours had passed before your neck started to cramp up. Once you started rolling, Mark looked over and next thing you knew, one of his hands was rubbing out a tense part at the crook of your shoulder and neck. The sudden touch had you flinching and his hands left your bare skin almost as quick as they were there.

“So so sorry! I wasn’t thinking. We just met and I’m basically molesting your neck.” He apologized profusely. It was true that your flinch came more from the shock of having someone touch you, but it wasn’t from _who_ was doing the touching. Maybe it was the past four hours that eased the awkwardness, but it felt as if things were just as if we were playing in your own rooms. Also, the pleasure that came from his skilled hands overrode any residual shock.

“No, it’s okay. You can keep going with your cold fingers.” You joked to ease his worry that he crossed the line.

“Better?” He asked with a chuckle when a small moan slipped from your lips after he went back to work.

“I know how you became rich. You give massages to old rich women and they pay you for your magic fingers and pretty flower boy face.” You muttered, your eyes shut and leaning into his rough, but needed touch.

His chuckle turned into a higher pitch laugh and you found yourself joining right in. Mark stopped his impromptu massage and paused both of your games, placing them to the side.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” The tone seemed to shift and it put you on edge. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up money again. It seemed to make him sensitive.

“Sure…” It was hard not to feel like something was about to shift from the good time that you were having.

“Um, when I opened the door… did you not, ugh. I don’t know how to word this.” You could tell he was feeling flustered. You wanted to ease the tension in the air.

“Don’t be a little bitch, just say it.” You joked with him. When playing with him, you always ended up cursing at him in some way.

His lips twitched and he took a deep breath. “You didn’t recognize me, did you?”

Recognize him? How could you recognize him if this was the first time you were meeting?

“No. Was I supposed to?”

Mark’s eyes shot up to yours and his hands landed on your shoulders. It was if he was inspecting your face for anything other than the truth you just spoke.

“Dude, you’re worrying me. What’s gotten into you?” You didn’t know how to explain it, but Mark’s face changed and he seemed more at ease.

“Nothing. You seemed so nervous earlier, I was wondering if it was because you had seen me before and didn’t want to tell me.” Mark, your friend was back and for a moment you were shaken up at the sudden shift.

Before you could respond the sound of the keypad being pressed and the door opening distracted you both. Mark immediately jumped and ran to the hallway, probably to see who it was. You wanted to follow him, but thought better of it. It was his house after all. Picking up the laptop, you tried to look and act natural, but the voices started to flow from their location.

“ _What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at the studio all night.”_

_“Yeah, but I got tired. Why?”_

_“Uhh, I have company…”_

_“You do?!”_

With that, you heard footsteps hurry toward the room and before you had time to process what was happening, a tall figure was standing above you with a smirk covering his lips. Tall was an understatement, this guy was 70% all legs. You peered around him and saw Mark behind shaking his head and immediately you assumed this was one of his roommates.

“Hi… I’m Y/N.” Finally standing, you could see how tall this guy really was. It was a little intimidating to say the least.

“Yugyeom, the groupmate. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your brow raised as you tried to meet Mark’s wandering eyes. Groupmate? Did he mean roommate?. “Good things I hope?”

“From what this one says you’re the best one on his squad and that everyone else is scared of you.” Yugyeom boasted and that made you swell with pride. You weren’t sure if it was because Mark had obviously talked about you to his roommate or because he acknowledged your gaming skills.

“Well, he isn’t wrong. Do you play? Maybe you can see for yourself. We were just playing.” You turned to the abandoned laptops, but before you could go grab one, Mark stepped in.

“We were taking a break. Aren’t you just stopping home for a second anyway?” Something felt off between the interactions between the two roommates. You could tell that Mark felt uncomfortable, but it made no sense that Yugyeom would be the cause since they both lived here.

“You’re right. I need to head back for dance practice.” Yugyeom explained after shooting some daggers at Mark with his eyes.

“You’re a dancer? What kind?” He didn’t seem like a ballerina. Or was it boy ballerina? Though with those long legs, you could picture him doing something athletic.

Mark looked like he was about to say something, but Yugyeom got in first. “An idol dancer. I’m part of the group GOT7, with this one here. Didn’t he tell you?” He looked actually confused that you had no clue.

An idol? You looked from the two of them and then your eyes started to pick up on things. There were pictures hung with Mark and six other guys. Your eyes flew over to the bookcase and you saw what looked like awards placed on the shelves.

“You’re a… you mean you…” Words were hard as you tried to recall every conversation and interaction you’ve had with Mark over the last 2 years.

“Y/N, let me explain.” Mark came to stand next to you, but your body, acting on its own, took a step back. You weren’t scared, but you did need a moment. Stupidity and embarrassment threatened to take center stage, and you were trying to save yourself from either emotion.

“Oh, you didn’t know. My bad…” Yugyeom apologized as he started to back out of the room. But, it was as if he wasn’t even there anymore. Once your eyes met with Mark’s you could see the worry behind them.

Your own emotions were all over the place. He’s been an online friend for years, of course there were things that you didn’t tell each other, but being famous feels like a huge omission. Details that seemed little and insignificant at the time, were being shined on in new light. Mark’s traveling and months away. All the times he would be around but then ghost you out of nowhere. Times when you worried over hurting his feelings, was he just away on TV or tour?

Popular music really wasn’t your forte. You didn’t keep up with current groups and bands outside of the ones that make their way on the news, but between work and school before, it wasn’t something that kept your interest. The last thing you expected was your online friend to be a member of one of these idol groups.

The sound of the door closing brought you out from the depths of your thoughts and Mark just stood there. It felt as if you were looking at a stranger. Was everything he shared with you a lie? A game him and his famous friends created?

“Y/N…I…” he started to speak, but you held up your hands and turned around to grab your bag.

“Don’t. I can’t be here right now.” With that, you pushed past Mark. You’re only goal was to get out of that apartment as quick as possible. Your mind felt as if it was in shambles while you rode the elevator down to the lobby. Your flight vs. fight instinct kicked in and flight clearly won.The feelings were so strong, it wasn’t until you were outside that you realized your shoes were in your hands and bare feet on the pavement.

Home was the only place you wanted to be, the only place you could organize what just happened. Crap, being catfished by a celebrity is not as glamorous as one would think.

 


End file.
